Chapter 8 #2
“I always remembered it was your favorite when you were a boy, dear,” Sharon replied, and they locked eyes, something soft passing between them.
The cake was a little bit rich for me, but I wasn’t going to say anything about it.
As we ate, Sharon hemmed, a little carefully. “Have you heard from your parents today?”
Cole rolled his eyes. “They called me this morning before school. And oh, they sent the usual card stuffed with cash. Just the right amount of effort, I guess.”
Sharon pursed her lips, a frown line between her brows, but then she straightened her shoulders. “You know you’ll always have a place here, sweet boy, as long as I am in this house.”
“I know, Gram.”
They were quiet for a beat, and then Sharon turned to me, her eyes bright. “Ezra, I should have congratulated you earlier! Cole told me you got your letter from Rutgers.”
“Yeah, I did.” I looked down at my plate, patting the crumbs with my fork. “It’s a relief to have that all figured out.”
“Pardon me for asking, but you didn’t want to go away for school, like your brother did?”
I shrugged. “You know, he’s been wanting to be the next Mark Zuckerberg ever since there was a Mark Zuckerberg. He’s where he needs to be, but I don’t really know what I want to do yet. And Rutgers is a good school that has everything.”
Sharon patted my hand. “That sounds very sensible.”
Across the table, Cole looked faraway for a moment. Then his eyes met mine, and he wiggled his eyebrows. Nothing ever felt too serious when he was in the room.
After we finished eating, we tried to help with kitchen cleanup, but Sharon waved us upstairs. I had barely closed the door to Cole’s room before he was all over me, throwing his arms around my neck.
“Finally —”
“Are you sure —” I struggled to get the words out, laughing as he peppered kisses over my face. “I mean, your Gram won’t —”
“She doesn’t care —”
He was crowding me toward the bed, and I went, letting him push me down onto the quilted coverlet. And he followed, lying down on top of me and grabbing my wrists to pin me against the bed.
“I”ve finally caught up to you in age, old man.”
“You are less than two months younger than me,” I growled, and rolled him onto his back.
It had been ten weeks since the lighthouse, and I thought I was getting used to the effect Cole had on me, what it was like to kiss him, to press his body against mine, to feel his bare skin under my hands, to let my lips wander down his neck.
We hadn’t done more than kissing, although I knew Cole had in the past. But somehow it felt right, curling up next to each other for hours at a time, stealing kisses as we did our homework, throwing books aside when we got distracted, breaking apart when the feelings got too intense, only to do it all again.
It was a cycle that was becoming familiar, even as it thrilled me.
But tonight was different somehow. I don’t know whether it was the special occasion, or knowing that we were in a safe place, or that we’d be out in the world on our own soon enough.
Or maybe we were connecting on some new level, hurtling toward something that neither of us could articulate.
But I was putting all of my weight on Cole, pressing him into the mattress.
And he was whimpering, his arms wound tightly around my shoulders to hold me in place.
He had spread his thighs wide to make room for me, and as I licked into his mouth, he clamped his knees around my hips, the connection between us almost dizzying.
“Ezra —”
His hand slid down my back to grab my ass through my jeans, and we were moving, rocking against each other as our hands roved.
One of mine was at Cole’s waist, pushing his shirt up so that I could wrap my fingers around the hollow beneath his ribcage, my other elbow braced on the bed.
And I was making sounds too, sounds that came from deep within me, that matched the motion of my hips.
It was too much — It wasn’t enough — I knew I was hard, that I could feel his hardness through the fabric that separated us — it wasn’t the first time it had happened but somehow — god, it felt so fucking good — I was flushed all over and my stomach muscles were tensing and my thighs were cramping and it was warm, so warm, and Cole’s mouth was on mine and I could smell him all around me and —
“Fuck! Oh shit, oh god, oh — fuck fuck fuck fuck —”
I collapsed against Cole’s chest, hiding my face against his shoulder, warmth and confusion spreading all over my body.
“Oh my god, did you just —” Cole lifted my head to look into my face, and his eyes were dancing.
“Don’t you fucking laugh —”
I covered his mouth with my hand, but he was already giggling, and I couldn’t help joining in, both of us giddy, even as my muscles felt like jelly and my cheeks burned. Reaching for the bedside table, he handed me a box of tissues.
“Here, if you want to clean up —”
I rolled onto my back, turning away from him to unzip my jeans and clean up the worst of the mess. As I was finishing up, Cole rolled into me, dropping a kiss onto my shoulder.
“You know, if you ever wanted me to make that happen for you on purpose, I would.”
I looked down at him, and he was smirking at me, his cheeks flushed. “Is that so?” I pushed him back onto the bed and brought up my hand to cradle his face as I kissed him.
“Mmm —” he sighed, his breath hot on my lips. “There are lots of things I could do.”
“Do you —” I cleared my throat. “I mean, do you want me to do anything for you?”
He pulled back to study me, his eyes flicking back and forth across my face. “Are you sure?”
“Pretty damn sure,” I chuckled. “I mean, I’ve been thinking about it a whole lot.”
“Okay.” Cole settled back into the pillows, unzipping his fly and pulling his T-shirt up to his armpits, exposing his concave belly. Then he took my hand, cradling it against his chest. “Kiss me —”
I leaned over him, pressing my mouth to his as he wound one arm around the back of my neck.
As we kissed, I trailed my hand along his bare skin, stopping to brush my fingers over his nipple, to savor the rise and fall of his breath, to tease the trail of hair below his navel until I was lifting the waistband of his boxers, slipping my hand further down, chuckling as he gasped into my mouth —
And my hand was wrapped around him, and inside my brain was screaming, but it wasn’t unlike touching myself, not really — hard length, velvety skin, my hand gliding up and down — but this time I had Cole shuddering against me, one arm thrown over his head — he’d left off kissing me and so I was able to watch as he pressed back against the pillows, his lips parted and his eyes shut tight, the little frown of concentration that wrinkled his brow —
“Shit!”
His eyes flew open as he spilled over his chest, both of us laughing as he reached up to kiss me soundly.
“Well, happy birthday to me, I guess,” he quipped as he reached for the tissues.
“Yeah, happy birthday,” I murmured back, wrapping an arm around his shoulders as he snuggled into my side, resting his head on my chest. I could just feel that things were going to be different.
***
June 2025
“You must know every quiet restaurant in Lower Manhattan.”
“Huh?” Cole looks up from his bowl of spaghetti carbonara.
We’re sitting next to the window on the second floor of a no-frills Italian restaurant in the East Village, in our own little nook away from the other patrons.
“Oh, yeah — it’s kind of on purpose. And I like it too, when I don’t have to shout at you. ”
“It’s really nice of you to pay attention to that.”
I go back to my chicken parmesan, and Cole’s eyes drift out the window. He seems like he has a lot on his mind, but I’ve noticed he can get like that sometimes when he’s been in his studio all day. His hair is pulled back, and I can see a streak of bright blue paint above his left ear.
A little while later, I open my mouth again. “Is it weird being back in the city?”
“Hmm?” Cole’s eyes are fully focused on me this time.
“I mean — at the engagement party, you said you’d been in Italy and that was why you never met Seth. I was just wondering if, I dunno, you miss it or anything.”
Cole looks down, twirling a strand of spaghetti around his fork.
“Not really. I had an artist residency in Rome for a couple of months over the winter, and then when I was done I still wanted to stay, so Bree set me up with a couple of her friends who have a villa on Capri. It was great, but — I dunno, it was time to come home. I was glad Bree gave me the excuse.”
I frown. There’s something about Cole’s affect that seems off. “Did something happen?”
“Not really, it was just —” He looks at me and shrugs. “You know me. I get in too deep, and then people find out what I’m really like.”
“I don’t have a problem with what you’re really like.”
Cole smiles at me, and then pops the bite of carbonara into his mouth. We eat in silence for a few minutes, and it’s nice, being able to share space with someone else so comfortably. I’m about to start a story about a student in one of my summer classes, but Cole gets there first.
“Hey Ezra, can I ask you something?” He’s looking at me intently, and I nod.
“Sure, go ahead.”
“I was wondering — and you don’t have to tell me unless you want to — did you ever date women? Like, after I left. When you went to college. Or — after.”
“Um —” I pause, considering my answer. “I did — but it never really went anywhere.”
Cole leans forward, his eyes piercing mine. “Why not?”
It’s hard to find the words to explain. “It was just — there was so much I didn’t understand.
Like, what was I supposed to say at dinner?
Was I talking about myself too much? Did I ask the right number of questions, or too many questions?
When was a date a date, and when was it just hanging out?
How many times would we have to hang out before we could have sex?
Why was sex okay sometimes, but not other times?
No matter what I was doing, I always felt like I was doing the wrong thing. ”
Cole looks amused. “And it’s not like that with guys?”
I shrug. “It could be, but not as much. I mean, if you meet someone on an app that’s just for hooking up, and you get together specifically to hook up, you know how your night is going to end. It’s much easier. Nobody gets hurt.”
“You make it sound so simple.”
“It is simple!” I agree. “I mean, just look at you and me. You always tell me exactly what you want, and so I know what page we’re on all the time. You make it so easy.”
“Do I?” Cole cocks an eyebrow. “What do I want, then?”
I tick the points off on my fingers. “You want to have a lot of sex, so we have a lot of sex. You want to go to quiet restaurants and take me to museums. You don’t mind if I nerd out about history, because you’re a nerd too, even though you look much cooler than me.
But you don’t want to talk about yourself, so we don’t.
And you want this to be casual, so it is.
It’s like I’ve found my best friend again, but it’s this other thing too.
And it’s great because it’s not complicated. ”
“Oh.”
The word sounds hollow, so I look up sharply. But when I meet Cole’s eyes, he’s smiling at me, smoothing back the hair on the top of his head. “I’m glad it’s not complicated, Ezra. I — I really like spending time with you.”
“Me, too.”
I change the subject to work, and Cole leans on his hand to listen. On the street below us, I can hear a blast of music from a car stereo, the insistent tat-tat-tat of a jackhammer a few streets away. But Cole’s eyes are on my face, and for once I feel like someone understands me.